


We Call This Fixer Upper Home

by Lilsciencequeen



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Adorable FitzSimmons (Agents of SHIELD), Angst, But only a little, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Happy Ending, Perthshire Cottage, Post-Framework Universe (Marvel), Rebuilding, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 02:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12049206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/pseuds/Lilsciencequeen
Summary: A little broken, a little new.We are the impact and the glue.Capable of more than we know,We call this fixer upper home.After escaping the Framework and moving to Perthshire, FitzSimmons' relationship is not what it once was. Can the beat down cottage they one day hope to call home also help to rebuild their relationship?// A Rebuilding Fic





	We Call This Fixer Upper Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Monkeybum1723](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monkeybum1723/gifts).



> Here it is! I am so sorry this took so long! I really hope you enjoy it and thanks for the amazing prompt! 
> 
> Fic inspired by North by Sleeping At Last. I highly recommend that you listen to it for this fic.

_A little broken, a little new._

_We are the impact and the glue._

_Capable of more than we know,_

_We call this fixer upper home_

 

There was a small stone wall around the cottage, a dull grey and behind the building itself was a wooded area, the trees green and in full bloom, showing that summer had come to Perthshire. The sun was also out, high in the sky and beating down on them.

Jemma took in the cottage, squinting against the light to fully appreciate it and it was a wreck, but it was the one that was closest to their budget. Yes, they would have to put some work into it, and it would probably be a challenge, but a challenge was something that neither of them could deny and it would be cheaper to just restore than to buy a new one or to build one of their own. And maybe rebuilding it, making it their home, a place to call their own, would allow them to rebuild their relationship.

Ever since escaping the Framework, ever since leaving S.H.I.E.L.D, Fitz had been withdrawn, not wanting to be near her, the team, anyone, but instead chose to remain in his thoughts, the toxic thoughts of self-hatred. It hurt her to see him like that, hating himself for what he had been forced to do, actions he had no say in.

She wanted to take the pain away from him, she wanted to make it all okay but she knew she couldn’t. It was a battle that he was going to have to face himself, demons he was going to have to exorcise himself, but that didn’t mean that he had to do it alone.

No, she was going to be there. She was going to be there for him. Every step of the way. She would listen to his every fear, and hold him during every nightmare. He had done the same for her, had done it so many times now and she was determined to do the same for him. He was her best friend and she would always support him, no matter what. She didn’t care how long it took, she didn’t care if their relationship never became what it once was. All she wanted was for Fitz to be happy and healthy.

She knew that it would take years for Fitz to recover, and that there may be some things that he would never recover from, she just didn’t want him to be stuck in this cycle of hatred. She wanted to take the pain away.

And maybe, maybe this cottage could do it. It truly was a wreck; the window of the living room had been boarded up, the glass needing replaced, several roof tiles were also missing and that wasn’t even considering the garden. And that was only the outside. The inside was much worse. All three of the bedrooms and the lounge needed to be refurbished, the wall between the kitchen and the dining room was going to be knocked down, to open up the house more and to create a brighter and more welcoming home, and the kitchen itself was going to be replaced, as was the bathroom. There was a lot of work that was needed to be done and it would take time but Jemma was determined that they could do it. The both of them. Together.

She turned her attention from the cottage to Fitz. He had lost weight in recent weeks, his clothes once tight fitting, now hanging off his frame and there were massive bags of black under his eyes, showing just how much sleep he had lost due to the nightmares that plagued him. The horrors that visited him every night. Biting her lip, she took a moment to compose herself and then spoke. “You ready to go in?”

He looked at her, his eyes bleeding pain and then slowly, he nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t… don’t worry about the bags. I’ll carry them in.” He tried to offer her a small smile but it wasn’t his usual smile. A sadness lingered in it. She smiled in return, attempting to show him that everything was okay and then pushed open the gate, the hinges creaking, disturbing the silence of the countryside.

Her footsteps up the path were slow, the overgrown grass brushing at her ankles, a soft breeze blowing her hair. It was only moments later however that she reached the door, finding the keys in the pocket of her jeans before unlocking the door.

Inside, dust was dancing in the air and she stepped into the cottage, her finger tips dancing across the top of the counter in the hallway. Moments later, the door closed again, and Jemma spun, seeing Fitz depositing the bags in the hallway.

She smiled at him again, meeting his eyes. “Do you want to order food in, see if we can find a film to watch. Have a relaxing night in? Just like we did in the Academy?” _God knows we need it_ , she thought but never spoke those words out loud.

Fitz shifted uncomfortably in his skin, and Jemma could sense that he didn’t want to do this, maybe he thought that he didn’t deserve it but after a brief moment of pause, he nodded. “That sounds amazing.”

***

She was in the kitchen the next morning, leaning against the counter. She reached for her mug of tea, sipping it as she scrolled through the morning news on her tablet. She hadn’t much sleep the night before, Fitz’s screams having alerted her to the fact that the nightmares were plaguing him. She had rushed out of bed, banging on the door to his bedroom. They weren’t staying in the same room, not at the moment anyway. Fitz was more comfortable staying in different rooms, and Jemma hadn’t objected. She would do whatever it took to ensure that he was comfortable and whatever would help his recovery. She had knocked on his door, not wanting to go in unless he wanted her to but he hadn’t wanted her to come in, hadn’t wanted her comfort. She had told him that she was in the room next door should he change his mind, and she would be there for him when he needed to talk and had left, respecting his wishes to be left alone while trying not to be upset at what had just happened.

After that, she hadn’t been able to get back to sleep, too scared to get back to sleep. There hadn’t been any more screams from Fitz, for which she was thankful. They had been heart breaking to hear, and she had wanted to be there for him, to comfort him but she knew that he wasn’t ready for that, not yet anyway. So she had spent all night tossing and turning but unable to sleep, a part of her hoping that there would be a knock on her door and it would be Fitz, saying that he was ready to open up. But that had never happened.

It had been just after five in the morning when she had finally given up, accepted that she wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night and had turned on the lamp beside her, and it cast a dull orange glow across the room. And she had read until just after eight, at which point, she had headed to the kitchen, wanting to get something to eat.

Fitz arrived not long after her, just after the kettle had boiled in fact, his hair up at all angles. She gave him a small smile, slightly amused at how his hair had ended up. “Water’s still hot if you want tea.” She nodded with her head to where the kettle sat, steam still escaping from the spout.

He smiled back, freezing in his place, unsure of what he wanted to do next. His eyes wandered around the kitchen, taking in everything that would soon be replaced, as if deciding where everything was going to go. Or maybe he was confirming that he really was in Perthshire and not back in the Framework and that this was some dream his mind had conjured up. Something to taunt him. To tease him. Something that, once he was happy, would be ripped violently away from him, leaving only pain and suffering.

Slowly, he nodded, making his way over to the counter. Jemma moved out of his way so that he could access it, pouring himself a mug. In the days before they had moved in, their team had come to the cottage, filling it with all the essentials that they might need, but it was only the very basics. Jemma knew that if it wasn’t today, then tomorrow, she would have to go into the local village to go shopping for a number of items and not just food and teabags. “I’m sorry,” Fitz said suddenly, his voice low and full of pain, regret.

Jemma looked up and met his eyes, and raised an eyebrow, wondering what he could be apologising for.

“For last night,” he explained, shaking his head as if he were ashamed of himself. “I’m sorry. For waking you up.”

But she shook his head. There was really no need for him to apologise, he had done nothing wrong after all. “It's fine,” she reassured, hoping that he would actually take her words in. “I was thinking of maybe going into town today; picking some stuff up.” She finished her sentence, hoping he would be able to pick up on what she was asking without her really asking the question.

He seemed still as a statue for many moments, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, yeah that seems like a good idea. We’re gonna need food and all…”

From his answer, it seemed that it was clear that he didn’t know what she was asking, what she was implying. Or he knew what she was asking but didn’t want to acknowledge what she had said.

“Do you want to come?” she clarified.

“Do _you_ want me to come?” he asked, reaching up with his left hand and rubbing nervously at the back of his neck, dropping his gaze as though he were no longer able to look at her.

She smiled, a small soft smile and nodded. “I would love you to come. And besides, we’re going to need paint, some new furniture and wallpaper, and you’ve always been better at interior design than me.”

His lips seemed to curve up into a genuine smile at this point as he thought back to their days in the Academy, Sci-Ops, before all of this happened. “Yeah well, you were always in the lab.”

“I suppose I was,” she agreed. “And you’ve a better eye for colour too. Remember that shade of green I wanted to paint our living room.”

He gave a snort of laughter and opened his mouth as if to speak but never, licking his lips instead and allowing a pause to happen in the conversation, a lull where no one spoke. Then; “Do you think we can get another Bridget?”

***

Fitz remined a few footsteps behind her, pushing the trolley as Jemma made her way through the shop, lifting the food that they would need for their cottage, Fitz not saying much as Jemma picked up the items. She occasionally spun what she was holding in her hand, taking in the label, looking at the serving suggestions and reading the nutritional value of the item, her lips moving silently as she did so.

It wasn’t until they were in the dairy aisle, Jemma looking at the mozzarella to see which was the best value for money that Fitz finally spoke up. “You don’t… you don’t have to buy that for me.”

She turned to face him, trying to read the look on his face but found that she couldn’t. Ever since the Framework, she hadn’t been able to read him, to understand his thoughts and what he was going through. It had been like that also when she had returned from her undercover work at Hydra, some of the days she hated most in recent years, and there were plenty of days in recent years that she hated. “Are you sure?” she asked, frowning. “I was thinking of making you your sandwich tonight for dinner. You’ve not had it in a while now.”

He shook his head, dropping it so that he didn’t have to look her in the eyes. “I can’t…” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I don’t… I don’t deserve it.” He gave a heavy sigh that was just full of oh so much pain.

It was at this point that Jemma dropped the cheese in question into the trolley and made her way over to Fitz, taking his hands in her own and allowing them to rest against her chest over her heart. He looked back up at her, his eyes bleeding pain. “I don’t deserve this, any of this,” he whispered. “You’ve been so kind to me.” He shook his head. “Why have you been so nice to me?”

“Because you’re not him, Fitz. You’re not that man. You’re Fitz, my Fitz. You’re kind, have a bigger heart than anyone that I know and there’s nothing in the world that can change that. And I know that this seems hard, and it will be hard, but you can do it. I _know_ you can Fitz. And I’m not going to say that I understand what you’re going through, because I don’t. And I’ll never understand what you’re going through Fitz but I’m going to be here for you, every step of the way. And you’re going to beat this Fitz, I know that you can.”

The first tears started to make tracks down his face at this point, and she wrapped her arms around him, something that only made him cry harder at this point. His head came to rest on her shoulder, her jumper muffling his sobs and they remained like that for ten minutes, Jemma whispering reassurances into her ear as she ran her hand up and down his back. If anyone found that it was unusual, they never said anything, and just let the two of them have their moment in peace.

When Fitz finally lifted his head again, she reached up and wiped away one of his tears. “Do you want to just pay for this now and head home?”

He nodded. “Yes please.”

***

_“You. Mean. Nothing. To Me.” The five words were laced with such venom as he spat them at her, a threat. It made her feel ill, it made her hate this hell that AIDA had created more even. What she had done to Fitz, what she had put him through, it was worse than anything else. At what she had forced him to do, it made her feel sick to her very stomach._

_She shook her head, refusing to say the words because they weren’t true, and if they were her last words, she wasn’t going to lie. She looked up at him, her eyes full of tears that threatened to spill. “I love you,” she settled on instead, whispering the words so that only he could hear. But it seemed that these three words were not the words that he wanted to hear. His face, though it seemed to remain unchanged, flashed anger, a mask that she could see crossing his face and he pressed the barrel of the gun harder against her head and it was then that she felt fear for the first time, a true fear that nestled deep in the pit of her stomach._

_She could die here, she could really die here and if she did, she would be dead in the real world, and she knew that Fitz would never be able to forgive himself._

_She met his eyes again, hoping to get through to him because she had to get through to him. This was her last chance to make him remember. Remember her. “I love you,” she told him again but then she heard a single gunshot before the world went black._

She awoke with a start as the bullet ended her nightmare, a scream escaping her. Her hands shot to her mouth as if she could take back the noise. She had been careful not to disturb him with her own nightmares, not wanting to upset Fitz whilst he was still coming to terms with what had happened, and starting his own recovery. She didn’t want to set him back in his recovery. She couldn’t hurt him like that, not again.

Rolling over in her bed, she looked over at her clock that read it was just after half five in the morning and she sighed, knowing that after that nightmare, she wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep. Plus, she had been getting up at this time the past number of days anyway, it didn’t matter that it was early. She was used to running on little sleep. She had never slept in when she had been with S.H.I.E.L.D., she had slept in for so long now that having the choice almost felt weird.

She climbed out of bed, and padded across her room and reached for her dressing gown, sliding it on and opened her door. She headed to the kitchen, hoping to make a cup of tea and start looking up paint samples for what she hoped would become their main bedroom, and when she entered the kitchen she couldn’t help but jump.

“Fitz?” she asked, surprised that she had found him there. “Are you okay?”

He looked up from his tablet, and stared at her. He sighed, reaching for his mug of tea and taking a sip. “Can’t sleep,” were the words that he settled on in the end. “What about you?”

She knew that she should tell him the truth, that she had had a nightmare, that she was still coming to terms with that had happened but she also knew that it wouldn’t be of benefit to him at this point. It would only make him feel worse about what had happened. That he would blame himself. She shook her head, hoping that her voice was light and chipper. “Oh, you know me. I’m always up early.” She reached for the kettle, flicking the switch but even though her back was turned, she knew that Fitz was staring at her, and she could feel his gaze burning against her back.

“Jemma.”

The one word from him was all that needed to be said and she spun, knowing that she had to face him. “You had a nightmare.”

It wasn’t a question and she knew that she couldn’t lie, not at this point. She gave a slow careful nod of her head and Fitz sighed but she could tell that he wasn’t angry or frustrated at her, but at everything else, at the cosmos for putting them through this.

When he spoke again, his voice was low but determined. “We need to talk about this.”

And they did, over the next number of days, they talked about everything and anything that was on their minds. But it wasn’t easy, it was so hard, it was so damn hard to open up, to say everything that was on their minds, every tiny worry that they had. To come to terms with all the traumas that they had experience over the years.

But over the days, Jemma started to notice that there had been a change in not just Fitz, but herself as well. They seemed to flow more now, talking was much easier and it was two weeks after the first time they had went shopping that Fitz was up for going out again, for visiting the DIY store that they so desperately needed to visit at that point in time.

And the two of them walked hand in hand, their fingers interlacing with each other. It was nice, it was comfortable and Jemma had missed it so much that she was glad that they were building their relationship again, slowly as though brick by brick.

Currently, they were stood in the paint aisle, debating what colour to get for the living room. They had already started working on their cottage, someone having removed the wood from the living room window and replaced it with glass, lighting up the whole room with natural light and at the moment, while they were out, someone was retiling their roof, something that Jemma was thankful for as rain had been forecasted for that night and though they had sheeting up, she didn’t want to risk their new home flooding. The scientists themselves had already started to look into what they wanted for their new home, they had already decided on what kitchen and bathroom that they wanted fitted, they were simply waiting to order it now and they had also contacted someone about knocking down the wall between the two kitchen and dining room so that it could be one larger and more open room. Furniture was something that they were still dealing with, having already decided on a new table and sofa, but they were visiting IKEA in a number of days to try and find things for their home.

The bedrooms, however, were something that neither had spoken about. Jemma did hope that one day they would go back to sharing a bed, whether this week or next year, she didn’t care. She missed sharing a bed with Fitz, waking up every morning wrapped in his arms, safe and comfortable and home.

But she didn’t press the issue, knowing that Fit would come to terms with it once he was ready to. She wasn’t going to push his recovery. He was only starting to open up, and she wasn’t going to push him further than he was ready for.

“So,” she asked, staring at the rows and rows of paint that sat on the shelves in front of them. “What colour are you thinking?”

Fitz scanned the shelves, wanting to say that it didn’t matter what colour, that as long as Jemma liked it, then he was happy but he knew that she wanted his opinion, his input in helping to decide what to do with their house. He knew that Jemma had several colours in mind, she did have a scrapbook after all, with different ideas of colours, scraps of wallpaper and the names of potential furniture ideas and their reference number, but she would also want his opinion and his thoughts, it was their home after all. “What about,” he finally began. “ _Off White?_ Just over there?” He pointed at the one that he was talking about, knowing that Jemma had liked it. “It goes with your furniture ideas and won’t clash with the wallpaper.”

Jemma looked at it for a second, before nodding. “What size do you think we need, seven or ten litres?”

Fitz tried to think. Seven litres seemed like it would be enough to cover the walls that Jemma wanted painted but ten litres would definitely be enough to cover it all, and have some left over if they needed to do more than one coat. “How about ten?” he asked, turning to look at her. She smiled at him, nodding. He dropped her hand, and reached up to it, lifting the larger can from the shelf and once he was holding it, he used his hand that wasn’t holding the can to take hers again, giving her fingers a gentle reassuring squeeze once they interlaced with his. “What about the bathroom tiles? Do we need to get them or are they included with the package?”

She shook her head. “They were included. They were just white. I wasn’t sure about the baby blue…”

“White works fine,” he told her. “Shall we get the paint for the bedrooms today or?”

Jemma nodded. “I think we should. Do you want to wait here and I’ll get a trolley, I think it’ll be a bit hard to try and get four cans?”

"’Course,” he told her, smiling. “I’ll wait here.”

She smiled up at him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek and Fitz could tell that she was nervous about doing it but he let her, not backing away from it like he would have only days ago. “I’ll be back,” she reassured him before turning and walking down the aisle, her pace quick and then she disappeared from sight.  He took in a slow breath through his nose and let it out through his mouth as the one question that raced through his mind tried to escape him. It had been on his mind the last number of days and he was still so nervous about asking it that he hadn’t, not yet anyway.

He was still debating it when Jemma returned, pushing the trolley up to him. “I’m back.” The two words that she spoke where soft and gentle and he turned to face her. After she placed the can in the trolley, he cupped her face in his hand, and tilted his down, allowing his lips to gently dance across hers. She gave a soft noise of surprise as he kissed her, and then she deepened it, allowing herself to enjoy the moment. It had been oh so long since they had last kissed and it wasn’t until then he realised just how much he missed it, missed her. How he missed just how delicate and gentle she was, never once pushing him past his limits, never once making him overstep his boundaries if he wasn’t ready for it. How he missed just how much she loved him, how she cared about him more than anything in the world. And how, before everything else, he was her best friend, and he missed just how important that was to him.

Pulling apart, she gave another soft noise this time, but one of protest this time and he smiled down at her, at his girlfriend, his best friend, the most important woman in his life. He couldn’t help the smile that caused the edges of his lips to curve up and he could see it cross her face too.

“Thank you,” he told her, his words a whisper.

“For what?” she asked.

“For everything. For being there for me.”

Jemma shook her head. “Fitz, there was nowhere else in the world I would rather be.”

***

They spent another number of hours at the DIY store, picking up the paint that they wanted for the bedrooms, and the wallpaper that Jemma had chosen for the rooms in the house that they had decided to wallpaper. Fitz had to help Jemma decide on what one she wanted when she had difficulty choosing between two. Any other person would have simply told her that it didn’t matter, that there was only a tiny variance in the shades, but Fitz didn’t, he simply listened to the pros and cons that she listed for the both of them. And in the end, they had decided on what they wanted, together.

Pulling into the driveway, Jemma turned off the ignition and turned to face him, smiling. “What about dinner tonight? I was going to suggest that we start painting but it’s too late and I don’t want to start something that I can’t finish.”

“Of course,” he agreed with her. “We have tomorrow sure, the sofa and table aren’t coming until Thursday, and we still have to take the old one out of the living room.”

Jemma rolled her eyes at the mention of the old sofa in the living room. She and Fitz had hated it upon first seeing it, it looked as though it had been in the cottage since the fifties and it had definitely seen better days, the thing was battered and threadbare. They had both decided early on that it was something that they were going to get rid of, and after a quick look online, Jemma and Fitz had found one they had liked, a simple blue three-seater. They had immediately ordered it, and finally it was coming. “Thank goodness. I don’t think we can take another day with that one there,” she joked, rolling her eyes.

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Thursday afternoon at some point. They never gave us a proper time.” He paused, taking Jemma in. “About dinner, do you want me to make it tonight or are you…”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. I was going to make tuna pasta salad.”

His eyes seemed to light up, and Jemma just laughed, shaking her head. She knew that he enjoyed it, despite how much he joked that he hated it. “C’mon,” she told him, reaching for the door and pushing it open. “Let’s get inside.”

It was an hour later that they were curled up together on the sofa, a bowl of pasta each in their laps, that Fitz finally asked the question that was racing around his mind. “Jemma?”

“Mmmhh?” she replied, glancing up so that she could look at him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He took in a breath, trying to compose himself. “I was just wondering, if it were okay with you, if I would be able to sleep in your room tonight?”

Jemma remained silent for a moment, taking a moment to realise what he had just said. “Are you sure?” she asked, looking at his face, trying to read him. “I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m ready. I _want_ to do this.”

And they did, Jemma curling up later that night with Fitz, her head against his chest so that she was able to feel the thump thump thump of his heart beat. His arms were wrapped around her, holding her close and it felt good, it felt so good to have him in bed with her again, to have that empty space in her bed filled.

But she also knew that maybe it would be hard for him, that he might not stay the night. Not that she would mind, she knew that he was still recovering from all that had been done to him, that he was still coming to terms with what had happened in the Framework and acknowledging that he _wasn’t_ The Doctor. The man that AIDA had forced him to become, the man that his father had made him into.

He was starting to recover, taking that first step on what may be a long journey, but that’s all that matted to Jemma.

He was starting to recover.

***

The next morning, he awoke before her, Jemma curled closer to him than he thought would have been possible. A quick glance at the clock showed that it was approaching eight, the latest either of them had slept into since moving into the cottage and she looked so peaceful in sleep, her breathing gentle and her mouth slightly open.

He didn’t want to wake her, not yet anyway. He knew that she needed her sleep, that there was only so long that Jemma could have late nights and early mornings before she crashed altogether. And, as far as he was aware, she didn’t have any nightmares that night. Maybe it was the presence of him that helped to reassure her mind.

Well, that’s how it worked for him anyway. The nightmares hadn’t faded altogether, he knew that it would be weeks, months, maybe even a handful of years before they faded altogether but they were less intense than they had been previously and he hadn’t woken up in a cold sweat and screaming, for which he was thankful.

And Jemma, just seeing her there in the early light of the morning, her hair a halo around her, alive and well, it just made him feel even better. His mind, as jumbled as his thoughts and memories currently were, was starting to come to terms with what had happened, _he_ was starting to come to terms with what had happened. Maybe he _wasn’t_ the Doctor, the man in the Framework, the man that his father and Ophelia…No AIDA, had made him into.

A soft noise from Jemma herself knocked him back to reality, and he saw that she was starting to stir. Her eyes fluttered open a few seconds later, and her warm whiskey eyes took him in, the edges of her lips curving up. “Hi.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead, and if it were possible, she smiled larger than she already was. “Sleep well?” he asked her and she nodded, tilting her head up to place a kiss on his lips.

He gave a soft laugh once they pulled apart, caressing her face with the back of his hand.  “I’ve missed you,” he told her, taking everything about her in, falling in love with her again in that moment. At just how beautiful she looked.

“I’ve missed you too,” she reassured him, reaching up and bringing him in for another kiss, this one more passionate than the last one, making up for all the time that the two of them had lost.

They remained like that for another number of moments, the two of them lost in each other. “Jems,” he whispered when they pulled away again. He could just see that she wanted to kiss him again and again, to never stop kissing him and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he more than wanted to but there was something that he needed to tell her. “Jemma. What about breakfast? What about your schedule to get the painting done?”

She just laughed at this, rolling her eyes. “That can wait Fitz. We’ve lost so much in the past number of weeks, and I don’t want to lose anymore. We have plenty of time to do the painting later.” Then she pulled him in for yet another kiss, a long tender kiss full of passion and love.

***

When the two scientists finally managed to drag themselves out of bed and into some old clothes so that nothing would be ruined when they started painting, it was close to noon. They had also spent almost an hour that morning clearing out the living room, dumping the sofa and everything else that they didn’t want into the skip they had hired. It had taken time, breaking down the furniture so that it would fit, but they had done it.

Everything else in the room had been covered with old sheets, not that there was much left except the entertainment unit, the one thing in the cottage that seemed to be from that decade. Thankfully, there was no carpet, just hardwood floor that Jemma had covered in some old plastic so no paint splatters would stain it.

Using a screw driver and cursing under his breath, Fitz tried to remove the lid of the paint can. Eventually, after some grunting and swearing, he managed to open it, the metal lid clattering to the ground.

“Sorted?” Jemma asked, coming into the room wearing an old pair of sweatpants and an old shirt that he didn’t remember. He frowned at her, and she tilted her head. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he reassured her, reaching up at rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s just that shirt… I don’t remember it.”

It was a plain black one, or so it seemed, for upon closer examination there seemed to be some long-faded pattern on it. “Oh,” she replied, realising now what Fitz was saying. “It’s one of yours. Some old engineering one. I can change it if you want?”

He shook his head, standing up and walking over to her, pulling her in close to him, and smiling at her. “It’s fine. I just didn’t remember it.”

“I stole it, that first night I stayed at yours when we were in the Academy.” She leaned in close to him, her hand cupping his cheek, and kissed him. “Do you remember?”

He nodded. “’Course I do.” It had been a late November night, and Jemma had come over to his dorm to revise but as soon as she was going to leave, they realised that it had snowed the past number of hours and that it was a number of inches deep. Jemma had said that she was okay walking across but he had disagreed, saying that it was too cold and too late and had invited her to stay the night. In the end, she had agreed, and had borrowed one of his old shirts to sleep in. He had never known what had happened to it, thinking it had gotten lost when he had done the laundry. But now, it had seemed that Jemma had stolen it. “How could I not?”

He couldn’t take his eyes of her when she smiled up at him, a twinkle in her eyes. Her hair was pulled back from her face, into a loose ponytail so that none of her hair would get in her way when they were painting. He leaned down, and kissed her again. “You want to start?” he asked, knowing that at this point they had completely ruined Jemma’s schedule.

“I suppose we should,” she replied and from the sound of her voice, it seemed like that she didn’t want to. That she wanted to spend the rest of the day here, in his embrace. But he knew, and he knew that she knew, that they had to get a move on, that they had to start decorating their cottage.

He gave her one last quick kiss on the lips before moving away from her, across the room and picked up the two paintbrushes. “Ready?”

She nodded.

And working together, as the team, the duo, that they were, they managed to get the entire room painted and wallpapered in a number of hours, everything done by the late afternoon, and once they were done, the two of them curled up on the floor, having removed the plastic and simply enjoyed each other’s company.

***

“What about that bed?” Jemma asked, pointing at the one in front of them, and then casting a glance down at her notebook. “It has the best dimensions, not too large, and not too small and it will fit our mattress from the base.” She cast a glance at him. “I know how much you love that mattress and…” she gave a sly smile at this. “And we won’t have to break it in.”

He felt his ears burn red at her words but knew that she was talking sense. That this bed frame would be the be best one to buy. “Of course,” he agreed with her, lifting one of the leaflets that showed where from the showroom they could buy it. They had brought most of the things for their house the past number of days, deciding that multiple trips to Ikea were better than going just the once, as they wouldn’t be able to get everything into their car with one trip. They had already brought everything else for their bedroom, and for the two guest bedrooms, and also the living room. The sofa had arrived a number of days before, along with the table for the kitchen/dining room. It had yet to be built as they were still waiting on specialists to knock down the wall between the kitchen and the dining room. But all in all, they were getting there with their cottage, it was coming along well, and as Fitz was finding out, it was helping their relationship.

Rebuilding their cottage, making it their own, it was helping them rebuild their own relationship. They were falling back together, Fitz spending every night now with Jemma, the two of them sleeping together again, spending all the time they could together. They were still talking things through, discussing the nightmares that they had, and they were still coming to terms with all that had happened to them recently. There were still times that were hard, not everything was easy but they were coming together again and that’s all that mattered.

He felt a soft sudden weight on his shoulder and saw that her head had come to rest there. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be simply enjoying the moment. “You okay?” he asked her, his lips placing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

She gave a soft hum of contentment, not answering him but she didn’t need to. When it came down to it, she never really needed to talk. He just knew.

“Is there anything else we need?” he asked, despite being the one that Jemma believed to be the better interior designer, he was hopeless when it came to what was needed, Jemma always making lists upon lists of potential ideas.

“I don’t think so,” she told him. “We’ve picked out everything else over the past number of days. Unless you want a rug for the bedroom?”

“Nah,” he replied, knowing that she didn’t want one, just preferring the hardwood floor instead. “I think we’re fine. Do you want to head down to the showroom?”

She gave a soft hum of agreement, and together, the two of them headed, hand in hand, down to the showroom. As soon as he saw one, abandoned haphazardly to the side, Fitz grabbed a flatbed trolley, pushing it to the appropriate aisle, and when they got there, they saw that the bed they wanted was almost out of stock.

“Oh,” Jemma said upon seeing that there was only one box left. “Good job we got here in time.”

She offered Fitz a smile as he knelt down to check that it was the product that they wanted and then lifted it onto the trolley. “I think that’s everything,” she said to him once he had. “All the furniture, the cutlery, towels, bed clothes…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “It’s ours Fitz, it’s really ours.”

“I know,” he told her, bringing his lips to dance across hers. “It’s our home.”

“We still have a lot to do, though,” she told him, shaking her head. It was true though, they did have a lot to do; not only did they have to get a wall knocked down, two new rooms fitted, build a new bed, and they still had the most of their furniture to make. And the garden…

“Hey.” Fitz’s voices cut into her thoughts, the many many things racing though her mind. He knew that she would be worrying over everything that was still left to do. “It’s okay.” He dipped his head, placing a gently kiss on her lips to reassure her. “We’re going to do it, we’re going to make it our own.”

Jemma nodded, taking his hands in her own and smiling up at him. “We are, aren’t we?”

He nodded at her and together, the two of them headed through the rest of the showroom, avoiding a group of children running and screaming through it, followed by a bewildered parent trying to calm them down. Jemma looked at them a moment longer, a longing making itself known in her heart. Growing up, Jemma had never wanted children but over the past year, as her relationship with Fitz developed and blossomed, grew into something more, she had changed her mind. She wanted them, children, her and Fitz, in their cottage in Perthshire, with maybe a puppy, a family of their own. But she wasn’t sure about Fitz, she knew that parenthood, fatherhood, was something that scared him, especially after his own childhood experiences, after how his own father had treated him growing up, and now with the Framework, it might not be something that he wanted.

Jemma tried to push the thought out of her mind, not wanting to linger on them, and she was brought back to reality by a question from Fitz. “You okay?” He squeezed her hand as he did so, seemingly picking up on her change in mood.

“Yeah,” she settled on in the end, smiling up at him, hoping to convince him that she was okay when she wasn’t really sure how she felt. “I’m okay.”

**

Getting home from IKEA that day, Fitz knew that there was something different about Jemma, that something about her seemed off, and as he thought back to what had happened during the day, it came to him suddenly.

Children, she wanted children.

He had seen it in her eyes when the group of them had come running past, screaming and laughing and he just knew that she wanted them. He hadn’t brought it up at the time, he hadn’t been too sure and he knew that it was such a sensitive and far reaching topic but he knew that she wanted them.

And he did too. He wanted a family, a life here with Jemma. Away from S.H.I.E.L.D., away from all the fear and worry and pain that came with their job. But he was also scared. No, he was downright terrified. He didn’t want to be like his father, the man who had made his childhood a hell. The man who always put him down no matter how hard Fitz had worked to impress him. He could never make the older man happy, proud, caring, everything a father should be. He didn’t want to his child to grow up like he had; scared, shy, timid, terrified of their own father.

He shook his head, trying not to clear his mind but to organise his thoughts, as he watched Jemma potter about their kitchen, making dinner. They had found someone that would knock down the wall and they said they would be round tomorrow, meaning that they would be able to open up their house more. She seemed happy making dinner, her voice soft as she followed along to the song on the radio and Fitz knew that he had to speak now. “Jemma,” he began cautiously. “Can I… can I speak to you?”

She spun from her place in front of the oven. “Fitz? Is everything okay?”

He let out a slow breath, and then spoke again. “Children?” Upon seeing the look of confusion on her face, he decided to clarify. “Do you want them?”

Slowly, she nodded, frowning as she did so because she hadn’t expected Fitz to bring up the topic, not here and certainly not now. “I do.”

“Good… Good, cause… cause I want them too…”

“But you’re nervous?” Jemma asked, picking up on what he didn’t say, the words that remained unspoken.

“I am,” he admitted, knowing that he couldn’t lie to Jemma. “I’m terrified of the idea, of ending up like my… of ending up like _him._ ”

“You won’t,” Jemma told him, making her way over to him and cupping his cheek in her hand, looking him in the eyes. And he kept his gaze on her, not looking away like he would have done so many weeks ago. “And do you want to know why? Because you’re not that man, neither the Doctor nor your father. You’re my best friend, the man that I love and want to spend the rest of my life with. You’ve done so much good in your life, and nothing can ever take that away from you, nothing ever will. And you won’t be your father because you don’t want to be. You know what he did wrong, you know what he did to upset you, to hurt you and you won’t put your child through that. Because you don’t want to put them through what you went through. You’ll know… you’ll raise them the way that you want, with so much love and joy and happiness.” She smiled at him and he smiled back, taking in her words and understanding just what she was saying. “And we don’t have to start a family right this instance.” She shook her head. “I am in no way ready for children Fitz, despite how much I want them. We’re still working this out, our relationship and everything. And we’re still rebuilding our house.”

He nodded, agreeing with her. “But one day, we can have a family?”

“If that’s what you want, then yes, one day we can have a family.”

***

The next two weeks and a half were crazy, the wall being knocked down and the bathroom and the kitchen being replaced. But their cottage was coming along, Fitz and Jemma putting everything in its rightful place over the days.

It was becoming not just a house, but a _home_ , someplace that they could call theirs.

There had, however, been disagreements about the flatpack furniture but this was to be expected, with Fitz deciding that the instructions were useless and that he could do better than them. Jemma, however, had different ideas, saying that he _should_ follow the instructions, that they had been created for a reason and if he went around making modifications then they couldn’t return it (not that they would need to with his modifications but Jemma was still being on the safe side). In the end, he had agreed with Jemma and followed the instructions. Between the two of them, it only took them a handful of days to assemble all the furniture and put it where they want to.

Once all of this had been sorted out, only one thing remained. The garden. They still had yet to sort it out, and it was the only thing left to do, the final thing before the two of them could say that it was finished, that together, they had rebuilt this home and made it their own. Jemma did want to get it done before the summer left, and Fitz reassured her that they would, that they were well ahead of schedule, and no matter what they would get it done.

The work had tired them out more than they had expected, and each night they curled up together, a jumble of limbs as they slept together. The nightmares had started to lessen for the both of them. They were recovering, they really were recovering after years and years of trauma and they were happy and they were well, the things that were most important to the two of them.

It was early one evening when the two of them were curled up together, lying on the bed, Fitz reading a story to Jemma as she tried to fight to stay awake, a battle that she was losing, her eyes threatening to close and her breathing settling. She was at peace.

“Have I ever told you?” she began to ask him before she was cut off by a yawn. Fitz smiled down at her, at just how adorable she was when her nose scrunched up. “Have I ever told you just how much I love you?”

He couldn’t help but laugh at this as she rolled in the bed, lifting her head off his chest and bringing it to rest on the pillow so that they could face each other. “I don’t think that you need to tell me Jemma. I know just how much you love me.”

She just sighed, and brought her lips up to his. “I don’t think words can describe just how much I love you,” she told him once she pulled away from him, her breath hot on his face as she lay there, her forehead resting against his. She shook her head, closing her eyes and he swore he could have seen the first tear escape her and run down on to the pillow. “I can’t lose you again.” The words were a whisper, true fear in them.

“You won’t,” he told her, brushing a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, something that she always did when she was nervous as if it reassured her, and she never complained when he did it. “I won’t let anything happen to us again, okay?” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, her eyes still closed, tears brimming behind closed eyelids. “I promise you.” It was a vow, almost as if he were swearing it, daring the cosmos to try and separate them again because if they did, if they so much as tried… he wouldn’t allow for it, not again. Not after all they had gone through, after all they had suffered, all that they had _survived_.

Slowly, after a moment’s pause, she nodded before moving to rest her head on his chest once more, her eyes still closed as though she were trying to sleep now and not hold back tears. “Fitz,” she whispered. “Do you think you can finish the story now?”

“’Course I can.”

***

When she awoke the next morning, the sun breaking through the curtains and providing some warmth, she was alone in the bed. She groaned, rubbing at her face, hoping that she was just imagining it. But she wasn’t.

Fitz wasn’t in the bed with her.

“Fitz?” she called out, sitting up, thinking that maybe he had just gone to the bathroom but there was no reply. “Fitz?” she called out again, fear creeping into her voice and into her mind. Had he had a bad night and not wanted to disturb her? She climbed out of bed, sliding on a pair of slippers and made her way out of the bedroom and to the bathroom. The door was open and there was no visible Fitz in it.

“Fitz, please!” she called out, desperation now heavy in her voice, fear taking over her and ridding her of all common sense. “Please tell me you’re okay!”

She continued making her way through the cottage hoping to find him but every room that she checked was empty, there was no Fitz in any of them. Eventually, she wandered into the kitchen, knowing that he had to be there if he wasn’t in the rest of the cottage. In the room that had the food, something that he loved almost as much as her. “Fitz?” she asked as she padded her way through the kitchen and then she saw the back door was open. She made her way over to it, pulling it open even more to see him kneeling on the ground, digging at something. “Fitz?” she asked again now that she could see him, a sigh of relief escaping her once she knew that he was safe and alive. It took him a couple seconds for Fitz to realise that she was there but then he looked up and smiled at her. “What are you…”

“You said you wanted the garden done and I couldn’t sleep last night so I thought I’d… well,” he trailed off, reaching up and rubbing at the back of his neck despite the fact that his hand was covered in dirt.

Jemma stepped out of the cottage and looked around, taking in everything that he had done. The grass had been cut, there was a dug-up area of grass along one of the hedges, all of which had been trimmed, and an area of daisies in the far corner. In the middle of the garden was a table and two chairs as though for wining and dining. Jemma spun around, taking everything in. Fitz came over to her, wrapping his arms behind her, Jemma not caring about the dirt, and she allowed her face to come into contact with his. “That there,” Fitz began, pointing at the dug-up area of the garden, “is for flowers. I just brought a number of packets, of all the colours.” He spun them both so that they could see the daisies. “I’m gonna buy some more flowers for that areas; lilies, tulips, roses and sunflowers. Daisies where the only thing I could get this morning and I thought that maybe it’ll be best getting them as I don’t think Daisy would ever forgive us if we didn’t have the flowers she was named after in the garden.”

“And the table?” Jemma asked, knowing that it was a stupid question but asking it all the same.

“It won’t remain in the garden, well not in the middle of it. I was thinking once we had kids we could put a climbing frame or a jungle gym there. Maybe a swing set or a slide or a trampoline. But,” he continued, spinning them once again so they were facing the cottage. “I was gonna put some decking there, so we can have breakfast, lunch and dinner outside on the days that it is nice.”

Jemma wanted to reply, to thank him for all that he had done but found that she couldn’t. She simply turned in his arms, and buried her face in his shirt, the thing smelling slightly of damp earth and began to sob, her chest heaving and tears staining the fabric.

“Jemma?” he asked as he held her as she continued to sob into his shirt. “Jemma, are you okay?”

She nodded into his chest before pulling away and looking up at him with tear stained cheeks. “I’m not sad, Fitz. I’m happy. You did this all for me and I can’t thank you enough.” She shook her head as she discovered that she was lost for words.

“It’s okay,” he told her, bringing up a hand and stroking her face with his hand, taking in her features. But he wasn’t committing them to memory, he didn’t need to. He had already committed them to memory years ago and he could have carved her features into marble in his sleep if he wanted to. “You don’t have to thank me. I did it because I wanted to.”

She smiled at him, a light laugh escaping her and she could feel herself fall a tiny bit more in love with him, something that she didn’t even think was possible. She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing her lips to his once again, nipping slightly as she kissed him. He gave a noise of pleasure as she nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth, and when they pulled away moments later, only coming up for oxygen, it was Jemma who gave a noise of complaint.

He laughed, reaching to brush a strand of her hair behind her ear, something that shone a beautiful bronze in the early morning sun, casting an ethereal glow around her. “C’mon,” he whispered to her. “Let’s get breakfast.”

***

Autumn had just come to Perthshire when things changed yet again for the two scientists; Fitz had proposed to Jemma a number of nights before, under a hundred thousand stars after he had made dinner for the both of them. Tears had been shed by the both of them, Jemma having said yes (she would have always had said yes) and days later, Jemma had a surprise for him.

She had adopted them a dog from the local dog shelter, a small black mutt of an indeterminable breed called Monkey. The two of them had spent the time discussing wanting dog and one day when Fitz had been at a job interview for the local hardware shop, Jemma had snuck to the shelter and looked through every single dog, just to have a look before her and Fitz went out at the weekend but when she had seen the little black ball of fluff named Monkey, she didn’t need to see anymore, she couldn’t wait any longer. She just looked so sad there in her cage that Jemma had to ask if she could take her there and then.

The shelter had been more than happy to let Jemma adopt her, saying that since she was an older dog, at six years old and had some minor behaviour issues, no one had wanted her. Then they had also warned her about the aforementioned behaviour issues such as the fact that she never walked normally on the lead and she hadn’t been housetrained. That they would need to put in a lot of work to make Monkey feel comfortable, that they would need to do a lot of training to help her with her bladder and walking problems.

Jemma had told the staff that it didn’t matter, that her and her fiancé (a word that she still wasn’t used to using to describe Fitz but a word she loved using to describe him, well until they got married at least) were up for the challenge, and besides, it wouldn’t be the hardest thing that they would ever have dealt with.

Fitz had been more than more excited to see the dog when he got home from work and Monkey had been more than excited to see him too (the floor needed to be cleaned afterwards but it was no big deal, she was still new to the house and housetraining would take time). The two of them had had a discussion of where Monkey was to sleep, with the two of them deciding to leave Monkey’s bed in their room but in the end, she had curled up on the bed in between the two of them.

And within weeks, Monkey seemed to fall in love with the two of them, soon learning how to alert them to the fact that she needed to go outside and how to walk on the lead. Fitz and Jemma always took her out on the lead in the evenings, every evening, when there were less people to spook her and Monkey enjoyed the leaves that rained down on them, jumping in the massive piles whenever she was allowed off the lead.

“Jemma?” Fitz asked her one night, Jemma starting at the cottage a moment longer than normal before they went on their walk. “Are you okay?” It was a cool evening with a light wind but the sun was still out and low in the sky, casting everything in a soft glow. The house looked so different from how it first had all those weeks ago when they first moved in; they had tiles on their roof and a front window. Inside, the wall between the kitchen and the dining room had been knocked down, the kitchen and the bathroom had been replaced and every room had been redecorated, including all three of the bedrooms. Fitz had redesigned their garden, making it perfect and in all those weeks, their relationship had been rebuilt. They had been broken down, and with time they had managed to find themselves and each other once again, becoming who they once were, maybe even stronger than they had been before. Yes, they had changed in all the years they had spent with S.H.I.E.L.D., and yes, maybe they may never go back to who they once where but to Jemma, that didn’t matter because at this point in time because they were happy. They were together, they were getting their happy ending.

Jemma turned away from the cottage, and faced Fitz. She reached forward and took his hand as Monkey bounced around their legs, eager to go for her walk. “Yes. I’m more than okay.”

 

_We will call this place our home,_

_The dirt in which our roots may grow._

_Though the storms will push and pull,_

_We will call this place our home._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading this, its my longest ever one shot! I really had fun writing this and I hoped that you enjoyed reading it!


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